


Incomplete

by kittymannequin



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Clexa is Endgame, F/F, Heavy Angst, Honestly people you should know me better by now this is gonna hurt ok?, POV Second Person, Pining, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Years and years of pining honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-31 01:28:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12121563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittymannequin/pseuds/kittymannequin
Summary: You're six years old when you learn your mother and father are soulmates.You think you want one too.





	Incomplete

You’re six years old when you learn about it for the first time. 

It’s just a fuzzy mesh of letters on your father’s chest that you catch a glimpse of for the first time when he pulls you out of the warm ocean and presses you tight to himself. You push away with your tiny little hands to stare at the writing and he chuckles when he realizes what you’re doing. 

“Do you know what that is, moonpie?” He asks you, making his way out of the water and towards your large beach towel spread across the white sand. 

“No daddy.” You say, pouting slightly. You’ve always been curious about everything, your father says you take it from your mother, but new things tend to scare you and this is new and different and you think it spells your mother’s name and you don’t understand why your father would have it written - no, engraved in black ink - in the spot just above his heart. 

He takes your little hand, pressing your palm against the writing as he sits down and throws a fresh towel around your small and slightly shaking form, smiling warmly at you. 

“It’s a soulmate tattoo.” He murmurs softly, gently pushing away the hair matted to your forehead.

“What’s a tat-tattoo, daddy?” You mumble, the word unfamiliar on your lips. 

“Well moonpie, usually it’s a drawing on your skin, made in ink, that will stay there forever.” He smiles again, staring at you. “This one is different, though.” 

You tilt your head to the side, meeting his eyes. “Why?” 

“Because nobody drew it on me.” He smirks at you, chuckling when your eyes widen in shock. “It appeared here all by itself.” He runs a soothing hand over your head, fingers softly brushing through your hair as he untangles your curls carefully. “Do you want to know why?” 

You nod before he even finishes his question. 

He chuckles once again before speaking. “Because, moonpie, your mother and I were meant to be together.” He says, voice warm and calming as he cradles you in his arms. “A soulmate tattoo means that somewhere in the world there is someone who is the most perfect match for you and when you get your tattoo, that means you will certainly, at some point of your life, meet them.” You tilt your head up to look into his eyes, curios to know more about this. “It means someone is everything you will ever want in a person, and that they will become your soulmate and cross your path at some point in your life. Do you understand, my little moonpie?” 

You nod because you think you do understand. Maybe not all of it, but now you know why that strange writing of your mother’s name is on your father’s chest. 

You do understand what it means to have someone perfect because your mother and father definitely are that for one another and looking at them, you think you want a soulmate tattoo as well.

You hope you get yours soon.

* * *

 

You’re ten years old when you meet Lexa Woods and you think the universe has forgotten to give you a soulmate tattoo.

Lexa moves in the house next door, with her father Gustus and her sister Anya. You learn later that her mother, Indra, died in a car accident not even two months ago and deep down, you ache for the little rowdy girl next door. 

She’s all hard, sharp points, curt words and angry eyes. 

Until one day you find her crying behind the large oak tree at the small meadow behind your two houses and she opens up to you after you tell her it’s okay to cry. And you don’t run away when her cries turn louder and her small fists beat the ground hard and rough. You simply scoot closer seconds later, you take her hands in your own and pull her close and you hold her till her sobs are nothing but pained, breathy sighs and her eyes are no longer an angry shade of green.

You hold her until she falls completely silent and her cries are no more.

You’re ten years old when you think the universe has forgotten about your soulmate tattoo because this beautiful girl has just cried her heart out in your arms and all you want to do is hold your until your arms give out. 

There’s just  _ something _ about the small, broken little girl next door that feels utterly and completely right.

* * *

 

You’re twelve years old when you find out soulmate tattoos aren’t permanent. 

It’s a warm Saturday, late in fall, when your father doesn’t come home from work like he always does. 

The phone rings loudly through the house and your mother rushes to answer it, with her baking apron on and her spatula in one hand, dusting off her other hand as she runs across the hall. You snicker and Lexa elbows you in the ribs with a stern look before she grins just slightly herself. 

But you don’t get to enjoy her smile for long. 

Your mother’s loud cry breaks the moment and before you know it you’re running to the hall as well, Lexa right on your trail and when you find your mother slumped against the wall, with the phone in her hands and tears streaming down her face, you know it’s the day your life changes forever. 

Later that night, Lexa holds you close, running her fingers through your hair, caressing you softly, gently, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, but it doesn’t help. 

Not yet.

You’re twelve years old when your mother calls you to help her put on her black dress and you notice your father’s name fading from her chest. You want to ask her why, you want to fight the universe and tell it that no matter what, your father is still your mother’s soulmate. 

But then she tells you to let her be, tells you she needs some time alone with her thoughts and deep down you know why it happens, you don’t need an explanation for something so obvious. 

So you leave her room and run straight next door, into Lexa’s warm, comforting arms, now more than ever wishing you  _ don’t _ get a soulmate tattoo. Because you don’t know if you could live through it disappearing from your skin. 

You’re twelve years old when you realize soulmates don’t live forever, no matter how much you love them. 

You grow ever closer to Lexa through the years. 

Before you know it, you’re both eighteen and leaving for college and you can’t wait to be gone from your house. 

The emptiness surrounds you wherever you go, the silence screams at you whenever you enter the house.

The rooms are empty, the walls cold and naked, all the warmth seems to have left your house along with your father. And you understand, you actually do. He was a shining star, warm and burning and brilliant and your mother shone brighter next to him but alone… Alone she seems like she doesn’t want to shine anymore, at all.

* * *

 

You’re seventeen when you finally decide to talk to Lexa about the tattoos. 

“Lexa, do you have a soulmate tattoo?” You murmur as you shift in your seat, pulling your legs underneath yourself on your bed. You’re kind of afraid to look up and meet her eyes, uncertain and scared that she may already have one but she’s decided not to tell you. Deep down you know that’s damn near impossible because you two tell each other everything and you’re sure Lexa would tell you something as important as that. 

Assuming she knew about it.

“No.” She mumbles hastily, tugging at the sleeves of her hoodie. “My dad says not everyone gets one but if they do, it’s usually till you’re eighteen.” She continues, her voice incredibly small, not like anything you’ve come to know from her through the years. “I don’t think I’m meant to have one.” 

“A tattoo?” 

She nods, half-whispering. “A soulmate.” 

You’re up from the bed before you can stop yourself and you almost knock her off the chair when you bump against it as you kneel down before her. 

“Lexa.” You try, setting your hands on her legs. “Lexa, look at me.” You try again, rubbing small circles over her knees before your rub your palms over her legs and notice her finally tilting her head to look at you. “Of course you’re worthy.” 

She scoffs, giving you that patented Lexa scowl. 

“You can’t know that.” 

“Of course I can.” You say, more sure of your words than anything else in your life. “Anyone would be beyond lucky to have you as their soulmate.” Your breath hitches slightly as the words leave you and you hope she hasn’t noticed. You think even if she did, she wouldn’t say anything. “You’ll get yours. Don’t worry.” 

Lexa’s eyes are misting over but still she holds out her hands and brushes away the stray strands of hair on your face. 

“Do you have one?” She asks, her thumb rubbing over your cheek. 

“No.” You say, sadness seeping through your voice. 

You still think the universe has somehow forgotten to trace the markings of Lexa’s name into your skin before you met her. But after everything you’ve been through, you’re honestly not sure you want a tattoo anyone. Or a soulmate. 

Maybe when you get a little more older you’ll tell Lexa how much you crave to hold her tight and kiss her the way Finn Collins kissed you last spring near the swings behind the school. Maybe Lexa doesn’t have to be your soulmate for you to love her freely and fully.

* * *

 

You’re twenty one and asleep in your bed on a cold winter night, when your phone rings in the middle of the night, making your roommate grumble and mutter a curse as you apologize and rush out of the room to take the call.

“Hello?” You answer, forgetting all about checking who it actually is, calling you at the ungodly hour.

“It appeared.” 

You’d know that voice anywhere. You’d know the softness behind it, the gentleness in the tone that spreads warmth through your chest the moment you hear it. 

“Lexa? What?” You mumble, still sleep-hazed and confused at her words.

You can hear her take a shuddering breath and somehow, deep down, you feel the next words that come out of her mouth will mean everything. 

“My tattoo. I got it.” 

And you really wish that gut feeling wasn’t always right, you wish you didn’t know her words would make you feel everything and nothing, all at once. 

You feel like all the air has been sucked out from your lungs and when you finally do speak again, your voice is broken and throaty, and it comes out in a half sob. You can only hope she doesn’t notice.

You don’t know which is worse - the fact that you’re hoping it’s your name she’s got marked into her skin, or that you’re more than sure it’s not. 

After all, the universe has yet to be nice to you.

“Oh Lexa-”

“It says Costia.” She blurts out before you can even finish your sentence and there it. The name that hurts more than any words ever have, at least since your mother told you about your father’s death all those years ago.

“I…” You try but words fail you, now more than ever, your heart feels torn open and bleeding and it’s as if all the blood is clogging up your lungs and at the same time pushing up at your throat and there’s just no way for anything other than a sob to come out. But then Lexa starts speaking again and you try your best not to cry out, instead letting the tears slide down your cheeks as you clench your hand so hard you can feel skin breaking where your nails have cut into it deep and sharp.

“It sounds beautiful, doesn’t it, Clarke? Like some sort of … I don’t know, god, Clarke, I have a soulmate and I’m out here in the park shouting and jumping for joy and this old lady’s already asked me twice if I’m okay and god, I’m not, you know? I’m so happy, I’m so insanely happy Clarke, I don’t think I-”

“That’s wonderful Lexa.” You sob out, unable to hold it in any longer. You’re quick to try and repair the damages your voice has caused and you speak again when you realize she won’t follow up. “I know she’ll be wonderful. You deserve nothing less.” 

“I can’t wait to meet her.” Lexa mumbles excitedly and her words cut even deeper through your already torn heart. 

“I know.” You murmur, voice cracking only slightly now. “I’m so happy for you.” It comes out weak and not really honest at all, but you’re thankful that she’s so distracted and happy and excited that she doesn’t notice the lie in your words, the sadness behind them and the pain that must come through in your voice. “I, um, I gotta go, okay?” You hurry to add, the tears now becoming too much and the pain too unbearable. “I have classes in the morning.” You mumble.

“Oh god, Clarke, I’m so sorry, it’s so late over there, I wasn’t even thinking, fuck, I’m sorry!” 

“It’s okay.” 

It’s not.

“Shit, sorry. Go back to sleep, we’ll talk tomorrow. Call me?” She asks and for the first time ever since you’ve known her, more than anything you want to deny her. 

“Yeah, sure.” You say instead.

“Thanks.” She says and you can hear the smile in her voice. “Talk to you tomorrow Clarke. Love you.” 

The words feel like a final nail in your coffin as you sob out quick ‘ _ you too’  _ and hang up before she can say anything else.

You’re twenty one years old when your worlds is torn apart for the second time.

* * *

 

You’re twenty two when you come back home for summer break and Lexa’s not alone in her backyard. 

“Hi there.” A beautiful girl with long, curly brown hair says when she sees you walk up to the small door separating your two yards. 

Lexa looks up immediately, following the trail of the girl’s eyes, and her lips curl in a wide smile when she sees you.

“Clarke!” She calls out, getting up from her chair and rushing to greet you. She envelops you in her arms, all tight and soft and warm, and her nose pushes against your neck as she takes you in, grinning when you shudder at the touch. 

“Hey.” You murmur, clinging to her for a second or two longer than you know you should. 

“This is Costia.” Lexa says as the other girl approaches and reaches out to you, offering her hand. 

You take it and hate yourself for wishing it wasn’t as soft.

Lexa snakes an arm around Costia’s waist, softly tugging her closer, and you barely stop yourself from shuddering for all the wrong, sad reasons. 

“This is the girl I’ve been telling you about.” Lexa says proudly, all smiles and warm, shiny eyes, and you can’t help but wish it was you in her embrace and Costia in your place. 

But you know now that the universe doesn’t give a soulmate to everyone and no matter how hard you wished for it, Lexa’s name clearly wasn’t meant to be etched in your skin.

“A pleasure to meet you.” Costia says, smiling at you. “Lexa’s told me so much about you and your childhood adventures.” 

You smile, bland and impersonal, and there’s a twitch in Lexa’s lips that tells you you should probably fake your smiles much better around her, or not fake them at all because she knows you better than anyone else, after all, and the guilt that settles in your belly feels heavier with every new lie your tell her. And yourself.

So you give it your all and try your hardest to be a good best friend and you end up talking to Costia for hours because you can’t deny how wonderful and lovely she is and by the end of the day you’re leaving Lexa’s place with a smile on your face and Costia’s warmth lingering on your skin from the hug she gave you just before you left. 

You decide that night that you’re done spending your life waiting for something, for someone that isn’t meant to happen. 

You’re twenty two when you decide to just be happy for your best friend and nothing else matters much.

* * *

 

It’s two years later that you meet a girl that makes you smile as hard as Lexa did and you think you’ve finally managed to let her go completely. 

Her name is Raven and she’s everything you didn’t know you wanted in someone, but you end up taking her home that night at the bar and the next three years she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you.

You both don’t have a soulmate mark and you realize, early on, that Raven couldn’t possibly care less about it and really, you wish you were like that. But deep down it still bothers you, deep down it still hurts. 

Deep down you still wish the name  _ Lexa _ found its way to your skin. 

But you love Raven nonetheless and by the time you’re twenty eight and celebrating your birthday, you’ve moved in with her and your nights don’t feel bad anymore. 

She holds you tight at night, her arms wrapped around you and her nose pressed to your hair, and when you wake up in the middle of the night, frightened and scarred by your recurring nightmares, she soothes you back to sleep with her warm, soft caresses and her gentle, whispered words. 

You’re still best friends with Lexa, and Raven knows what she means to you, you’d never lie to her - not like you lied to your best friend - and when you hang out together on Friday nights, you know Raven tends to slip closer, tends to hold you tighter, as much as she tells you it’s okay. 

It’s not and you’re not sure it ever will be, but you told yourself you were done waiting and you figure, if it hasn’t happened by now, then you get to choose your soulmate and you realize it would be more than a blessing to spend the rest of your life calling Raven exactly that. 

You’re twenty eight years old and your heart is not longer as torn as it used to be.

* * *

 

You’re thirty one years old when you wake up in the middle of the night with a start, gripping the sheets with one hand and pressing the other to your chest, hoping it’ll stop the searing, burning pain spreading through it. 

Raven’s up within seconds and as she turns on the lights she asks you if you’re okay once, twice, and you don’t know, you’re confused and hurting and the pain feels worse than anything you’ve ever felt but at the same time it feels as if with each passing second something in you is shifting, falling into place, the empty space you’ve been running from seems to be filling up as the pain slowly subsides and all you’re left with is a warm tingle just above your left breast. 

You move your hand away and it’s not until Raven’s eyes widen and she gasps out that you realize something’s still wrong.

“Raven, wha-”

“You got a tattoo.” Raven chokes out, reaching out and pressing a gentle finger to your chest, exactly at the spot where that small warm thrum seems to emanate. 

You don’t think you’ve heard her right.

“What?” 

Raven’s eyes meet yours and she scoots closer, her eyes welling up with tears as she traces her hand up and moves her other one, cupping your face gently. 

“You have a tattoo. A soulmate tattoo.” She murmurs, eyes shining with unshed tears as one slowly slips down her cheek. 

Her words finally become clear and they resonate through you as your hand instinctively moves up to trace over the warm spot where your tattoo now is, and you’re left sitting there on your bed, staring at your wall in both confusion and fear, tracing the lines of your new tattoo. 

“Wh-” You try but a sob slips past your lips and you feel yourself choke up. Raven pulls you closer then and you hide your face in her hair, inhaling her familiar, soothing scent for a few minutes until you find it in you to ask a question which you already think you know the answer to.

“It’s not you, is it?” You mumble, your voice muffled by her warm skin. 

She shakes her head no and you feel it in your very being as it tears through you, slashes through your barely mended heart and you’re reminded yet again that the universe is not kind, it never has been, it’s cruel and wicked and mean and you really should have known better.

You slip your arms to her waist, tugging her closer until she’s sitting on your lap with her arms wrapped tight around your shoulders and her soft, hushed sobs muffled in your shirt. You need to feel her closer, need to not lose what you have built in the past couple of years, you need at least this one last bit of safety that you have in this universe and you refuse to let her go because that same twisted universe decided to play with you yet again. 

“It doesn’t mean anything.” You mumble, pressing soft kisses to her hair. 

She laughs out through a sob and you know, sooner or later, you’ll have to see what the letters on your skin say.

“Ask me what it says.” She mumbles as she pulls back to look at you, eyes slowly turning red from her tears. “Please, just ask me.” She says again, cupping your face as she leans in to press her lips against your own. 

It’s soft and slow, filled with salt from both your tears, and when you open your mouth to let her in, she doesn’t follow. She only pulls back again with that warm, sad look in her eyes. 

“Ask me.” 

You don’t get a chance to, though. Your phone starts buzzing on the bedside table and you can’t imagine who it could be at this hour in the middle of the night, but then fear shoots through you and you reach out, freezing up when you see Lexa’s name on your phone. 

Raven seems to notice too and her eyes widen almost comically but before she says anything you’ve already pressed the button to answer and you have your phone next to your ear.

“Lexa? Is everything okay? Why are you calling this la-”

“Clarke…” Lexa sobs out, the pain in her voice pulling at your heartstrings and for the first time in your life you wish you could just turn your heart off for a minute or two, give it a small break from all the pain you’ve been feeling. “Clarke I, I’m sorry, I know it’s late but-”

“Lexa, it’s alright, just, why are you crying? Lexa, is everything okay?” 

Raven leans over to move away but you grab her wrist, pulling you close and she grumbles slightly, making you frown still you clutch your phone tightly to your ear, waiting for Lexa to calm her shaky breathing enough to speak.

“I- Costia,” Lexa tries and at the mention of Costia’s name she sobs out yet again and you can’t help but feel it in your very core. You feel your eyes fill up with tears again and when you speak, you’re already prepared for the tears to finally fall.

“Lexa.” You try, as calmly as you can. “Please, breathe. You need to breathe. With me now, come on. One, two, three, breathe.” After about half a minute you get her to breathe with you and you feel relief when she stops sobbing long enough to take a deep breath. Raven runs a hand over your arm and slips it softly to your hair, brushing through your locks soothingly. “How are you doing now Lex?” 

You hear Lexa laugh out through another sob but she somehow remains silent after that and you’re about to check your phone to see if she’s still on the line when her voice startles you. 

“Costia’s dead.” She says in the coldest tone you’ve ever heard her use and you’re not sure if it’s her voice or her words that make the tears in your eyes finally fall. “She’s gone Clarke. My soulmate is gone.” Lexa starts sobbing again, heaving through her cries and you feel your own tears falling down your cheeks and Raven’s soft fingers trying to brush them away as she mouths ‘ _ Clarke, what happened’  _ at you and - 

You’re thirty one years old when you’re reminded just how cruel and twisted the universe truly is.

* * *

 

It all falls into place the morning after Lexa’s phone call, when you finally drag yourself out of bed and look in the mirror to see her name finally etched in your skin. 

More than anything, you wish you’d never hoped to see it there.

Not at the cost of Lexa’s happiness. 

Raven walks up behind you and slides her arms softly around your waist and you relax in her embrace, leaning into her and wishing you could just shut your eyes tight and open them up again and have all of last night be a dream. 

“When are you leaving?” Raven whispers next to your ear, pressing her lips softly to your neck. 

“In an hour.” You murmur and set your hands over her own, lacing your fingers. “My mom’s there with her but-”

“I know.” Raven says, pressing one last lingering kiss to your skin. You feel her let go of her embrace with one hand as she traces it softly up to your chest and in the mirror you see her finger brushing over the word etched into your skin. “The universe really is cruel, isn’t it?” She half-whispers and your eyes meet her own in the mirror, her fresh, unshed tears now sparkling in her eyes.

You only sigh in response and pull her along with you to the shower, refusing to acknowledge the truth in her words. 

You’ve built a haven for yourself in Raven’s arms, a place safe from harm and hurt and cruelty of the universe, and letting her go is the farthest from what you want right now. So you push your intruding thoughts away, focus on the woman you love pressed close to you right here and now and the low thrum in your chest seems to fade, if only for a while. 

By the time you reach Lexa’s house hours later, tired from the long train ride and hauling your bag along, you see her standing by the window with her arms clasped behind her back and her jaw clenched tight. She’s noticed you already but her only acknowledgement is a firm, small nod and you know that the Lexa you see here now is the Lexa you saw when you were ten years ago. 

All sharp and rough, beaten and bruised by life. 

And sad, so sad. 

It’s her eyes, you realize. The warmth that used to be there is gone and you wish you could cut her name out of your skin if it could bring Costia back just to see that warmth return to Lexa’s eyes. 

You don’t even know what happened to her mark, if she felt what you felt, if she knows what you now know. 

It’s not the time to ask, you figure. 

And when you see her break down on the floor of their bedroom, sobbing over Costia’s side of the bed, you decide, then and there, that you’ll never ask. 

Your mother tells you everything later. 

She tells you how Costia had just gotten a new job and as wonderfully stubborn as she was, she refused to leave before she had everything sorted out and on her way home she was in an accident and never actually came back home. 

Now all Lexa had of her was a house full of memories and pain. 

When you hold her, late at night, hours after Costia’s been laid to rest, you want to tell her it’ll be alright. You want to tell her the universe has a plan for her, you want to tell her she’ll find something, someone but - you know the universe is cruel. And you know Lexa had already found someone. She found Costia. 

And for the first time in your life, you wish you never found out what soulmates are. 

Later when you slip into your bed, you fall asleep crying and clawing at the skin on your chest, wishing you’d never hoped for the name now etched there.

* * *

 

Despite yourself, you manage to ignore the words written on your chest for a long, long time. 

Raven lets you push the thoughts away now, having fought with you once, twice,  _ countless times _ , but you refuse to let the universe dictate your life anymore. 

You hate yourself for wishing Lexa’s name was tattooed on your skin, you hate yourself for denying it now that it is and more than anything, you hate how sadder Raven’s eyes look every new morning. 

Lexa slowly lets go of Costia and you see it in the way she holds herself, in the way she moves out of their shared house and settles in your city, that much closer to you and that much further from her pained, dismal past. 

You’re afraid of the closeness but you keep pushing the warmth in that spot on your chest back, back, back until it’s locked and sealed and safely under control somewhere deep within you where not even you can find it easily.

* * *

 

You’re a month away from thirty three when Raven tells you it’s best she go.

It’s been a long week of not seeing each other and an even longer two months of mostly silence, hushed words and unspoken feelings. More than two months even, but somewhere along the way you’ve lost count of the mornings when you woke up alone in your shared bed.

She deserves better, you know. And you tell her so one night, marking the beginning of your inevitable end. 

You tell her she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you, and you know it’s not a lie when you murmur it into her skin after you’ve made love for the first time in weeks. You tell her all the ways she’s made you happy, all the little things that made you smile through the years, the words that made you lose yourself in laughter and little silly nuances that made you love her that much more. You whisper dozens of  _ ‘I love you’s _ ’, kiss them into her skin again and again, cover every inch of her skin with your words until you’re lying breathless next to her, smiling and tracing patterns over her smooth, soft skin.

But you still tell her she deserves better and you both know she does.

Raven doesn’t cry when she packs her things the morning after your last night together. She doesn’t cry when you tell her you love her more than words can say. She tells you over and over that she knows it, feels it, wants it to be enough but - but she’ll never be enough for you and it breaks your heart to know that she’s right. 

She tells you she’s loved you from the first moment she saw you step out of your car in front of her shop, how your hair swayed in the wind and you held your head high when you talked to her, smirking when she teased you about the colour of your car.

It was bright green.

When her bags are set down by the door she turns around and walks straight to you, pulls you tightly in her arms and buries her head in your hair, breathing you in until you feel her release a shuddering breath against your skin. You feel, more than hear, when she tells you she knows nothing will ever be enough unless it’s with the one whose name you carry on your chest. As she pulls back, she lays her hand softly on your chest, tears brimming in her eyes when she tells you that no matter how hard you’re trying to push the truth away, that you should let it wash over you. And when her hands slip to your face and she cups your cheeks ever so gently, takes your lips between her own for the softest kiss you’ve ever shared, you remember, yet again, how cruel and unyielding the universe is. 

And how fragile and sad human hearts really are.

Raven leaves that Friday morning, a month before your thirty third birthday, and a part of your soul leaves with her.

* * *

 

You stop crying two months after Raven leaves.

You let your thoughts consume you, let your broken, barely ticking heart destroy what little of your soul you still have left and you let yourself go, for the time being. 

Night after night you come back to your empty apartment with a bottle, or two, in your hands, some nights alone and some not so much. You ask them to leave right after you’re done coming from the only high you manage to reach in those days, and when you hear the door shut behind them you curl in on yourself and pull Raven’s pillow closer to your body, still trying to find her scent that used to linger within the fabric. 

After a while you realize it’s been gone for quite some time. 

Lexa calls you one night and you let it go to voicemail. But she calls again and again and again until you grow frustrated and angry and you pick it up just to shut the damn phone up.

“Clarke, where are you?” Lexa sounds breathless and you really miss the sound of her voice but then you remember you’re sad, and angry, and frustrated and lost, so lost in your head, and you don’t bother answering her question before you hang up on her.

She calls one more time before you shoot her a short ‘ _ can’t talk now’’  _ message and shove your phone back inside your purse and go back to the brunette sitting next to you at the bar. You plan on taking her home that night but then she calls you  _ chica _ and you feel both dizzy and more clearheaded than ever in the past few months and before you know it you’re making your way back to your flat alone and sobbing and you realize it’s time to let everything go.

You’re back on your feet within a few weeks, you keep telling yourself it takes as long as it takes, and when Lexa’s name flashes on your phone again, you’re nervous to answer this time but still you eagerly do, shooing away your assistant. 

“Clarke? Wow, didn’t think you’d actually answer.” 

“Lexa, hi. Hey.” You mumble, feeling guilty as your nerves slowly start to calm at the sound of her voice as she speaks again.

“Hey.” There’s a small pause, barely there silence between her words. “Do you have a minute or two?” 

“Actually I have a few more than that.” You say, surprised how easy it is to just blurt out whatever is on your mind with Lexa. “Did you need anything?” 

“Ah, yes, well uh.” Lexa starts, clearly taken aback by your answer. It takes her a second longer to respond. “Actually, could we see each other sometime this week? Can you manage that?” Lexa asks and your nerves kick right back in as your hand all but flies to your chest, to that warm spot just above your breast where her name resides. 

“Is everything okay?” 

Lexa’s chuckle sounds light, but there’s something missing in it.

“Everything is alright, Clarke.” The way she says your name still tugs at your heartstrings. “Dinner on Friday, my place?” 

You’re tracing patterns over the fabric of your shirt where your tattoo is, unconsciously or not you really don’t know, but you ache to agree, you crave to say yes and really - you’ve felt the cruelty of the universe. Felt the sadness it threw upon you, you fell as deep down as you could and still you somehow climbed your way back up, along the long and thorny way, but here you are, standing back in your gallery, still managing, still surviving and really, life should be more than just surviving.

“Clarke?” 

You shake out of your thoughts and clear your throat, feeling yourself blush profusely, thankful nobody can see you in the privacy of your office.

“Y-yeah. Sure. Okay.” 

Lexa chuckles at your words. “See you Friday then.” You can practically hear the smile in her voice. “Bye Clarke.” 

She hangs up and you keep holding your phone to your ear a minute longer until the full meaning of her words hits you and you’re stuck standing there, a little speechless, a little breathless, a lot confused and it takes the knocking of your assistant on your office door to get you going again.

You’re thirty three years old and really, you don’t know what to expect from the universe anymore.

* * *

 

Your phone rings the Thursday before your dinner with Lexa and a name you haven’t seen in months flashes over your screen, a name you haven’t spoken in so long for fear of marring it with your sad, broken words.

“Raven, hi.” You mumble as you pick up, hurriedly walking back from the gallery to your apartment. You stop in your tracks when you hear her voice as she speaks.

“Hey chica.” She says and your lips spread into a smile involuntarily as you force yourself to start moving again. “How you been?” 

You can’t help but chuckle because, honestly, what’d you expect from her? “Holding up, Raven, holding up.” 

“That’s my girl.” 

Her words feel bitter as they settle around your heart but before you can think on them any further, Raven clears her throat and starts talking again.

“Clarke I, I don’t want to do this over the phone but uhm, I’m actually in Tokyo right no-”

“You’re where?” You practically shriek out the words and have to physically clamp your hand over your mouth as a few people glance in your direction. 

“Uh, Tokyo.” Raven chuckle and you feel the nervousness in her voice but tinged with that Raven-cockiness you know so well and god, you missed her so much. “Long story, I’ll tell you all about it when I come back, kay?” 

“Well you fucking better, yeah.” You laugh and so does she and you think you can do this, this unexpected friendship thing that you think is happening right now. 

“Listen, I, uh, I have to tell you something.” Raven tries again, a little firmer this time. “You’re still my person, you know?” 

“I thought we were done with the Grey’s Anatomy references.” You tease her and the sound of her laughter turns out to be a great filler for the hollow spaces around your heart. 

“Never.” Raven says before turning silent for a few moments. “Seriously, I… I don’t know how to say this but I guess I should just say it and well, there’s no one I’d rather share it with and yeah, here goes.” She stops then, and you hear her take a long breath. “I got my tattoo.” She all but whispers, and at first you don’t think you heard it right but then she mumbles the words again, excited and nervous, and you were wrong. 

The happiness you hear in her voice is the best filler for the hollow spaces around your heart. It feels warmer, softer. Gentler. Whole again. 

“Raven-” 

“It says Anya.” Raven mumbles out before you can say anything and you feel yourself grin wildly at her words. “Clarke it says Anya. Like, my soulmate has this badass name, I mean of course she does, it had to be something badass ‘cause I’m Raven and that’s like, the most badass name but Clarke, god, Clarke I- I’m going crazy here. I’m literally going crazy, god, I’ve been up for the past seventy two hours, mostly just staring at it and tracing my finger over it and god, Clarke, she’s out there! She’s really out there!” 

And yeah. Your chest feel whole again, even if your heart is still in pieces. 

“I’m so,  _ so  _ happy for you Raven.” You finally manage to speak, cutting through her excited rant as she all but squeals in her phone, making you laugh out. “I’m so happy Raven. So glad.” 

“Yeah..” She murmurs after a while. “I am too.” 

And you let her happiness fill you up, you let it patch up the holes in your chest, you let your own joy for her be the tool that stitches you up bit by bit until you finally feel like a person again. 

“I better go.” Raven says after a few moments of silence. “I have a presentation to attend and about a gallon of Red Bull to drink before it.” 

Laughter bubbles out of your chest at her words. “Be safe, Rae.” You mumble, feeling tears finally slip down your cheeks. “Better call me up for coffee when you’re back.” 

“You know I will.” 

When she hangs up, you’re left standing in the middle of the street, cheeks wet from your tears and lips spread in the widest of grins.  You know you look like a maniac but honestly, you couldn’t care less.

It’s been a long time since you’ve felt this happy, even if most of it is for someone else.

You’ll get there too, eventually.

* * *

 

You’re thirty three years old when you remember how it feels to be giddy and nervous like a teenager again.

You’re not sure exactly why you’re feeling like this, it’s just a dinner at Lexa’s place and okay, that’s a complete and utterly absurd lie. 

It’s Lexa. That’s reason enough for you to be more than just giddy and nervous when you get out of your car and look up at her apartment building, taking a long, deep breath before you finally make your way to the main entrance.

The elevator ride up seems too short for you to compose yourself fully so you stand in front of her door for a minute or three longer until she swings the door open and you startle so much you stumble back on your feet, back hitting the wall behind you.

“You ever gonna knock?” Lexa mumbles under her breath, staring at you from her spot, her eyebrows raised and lips curled in a small smirk, hands gripping the door tight. 

“I was just gonna.” You say back, clutching the bottle of wine in your hand and tugging at the strap of your purse with the other. 

Lexa’s smirk widens but she doesn’t question your words, clearly somehow aware that you’ve been standing in front of her door for a while. She only steps aside and ushers you in before she closes the door behind her. 

“I saw you pull up ten minutes ago.” She says as you walk over to the small kitchen, setting the bottle down on a counter. “I’m pretty sure it takes all of three minutes to get up here.”

You shrug. “Took the stairs.” You cringe at your own words. You don’t want to lie to her. Not anymore. “Actually, I didn’t. I took the elevator and then I stood in front of your door trying to compose myself enough to be able to knock without shaking.” 

Lexa leans against the far counter, arms crossed over her chest. 

“Did it help?” 

“Not really, no.” 

You don’t know where all your words are coming from but you do know it’s exactly what you want to tell her. No more surviving. 

Maybe it’s time you finally live.

“Why did you let me stand there for so long?” You ask her instead, as you move around her apartment and set your jacket down on one of the chairs at the dining table, along with your purse, running your hand softly over it before you turn around to meet her eyes.

“Had some composing of my own to do.” She says without missing a beat. Then she’s turning around, rummaging through the drawers and when she finds what she’s looking for - her small, barely functioning bottle opener - she grins victoriously when she grabs the bottle you brought and makes her way towards you. “Wine?” She asks you, already pouring some in a glass.

“I drove here.” You say and shake your head. “Maybe some other time.” 

Lexa nods and sets the bottle down on the table. “Juice?” 

“Sure.” You mumble.

Your nerves are all over the place, you can almost feel the tension between the two of you and try as you may, you can’t explain it, you can’t put a finger on it, can’t for the life of your see why it’s there and why it’s suddenly so hard, and still so easy, to talk to her.

But really, deep down, you know exactly why. You know because you’ve made it so, with your decision to come here and tell her everything, to finally speak instead of waiting for something that might not ever happen. When you decided it was time to live, you decided it was time to face everything you’ve pushed away. 

“Lexa, I-” 

“Should we eat?” Lexa cuts in before you can finish your sentence and your brows furrow in mild annoyance as you reach out to grasp her wrist in your hand, stopping her in her tracks before she’s even moved.

“Lexa.” You say, your hand trembling as it’s wrapped around her skin. “Please.” 

She turns to meet your eyes, her own somehow still so green just like the first day you saw her all those years ago when you were just two kids who happened to live next to each other.

She sets her glass down on the table and runs her now free hand through her hair. 

“I need to-” A breath escapes you before you can stop it because god damn it if living isn’t so much harder than just surviving. Because everything seems easier than what you’re trying to do now. “I need to tell you something.” 

Lexa nods after a few moments, but it’s all the response you get from her.

“Remember when we met? I was ten and you were eleven?”

The corners of Lexa’s eyes crinkle as she smiles widely at the memory. 

“Of course I do, Clarke.” 

You smile right back at her then slide your hand down from her wrist to her hand, fingers slipping between her own. 

“I fell in love with you that day.” You say, voice barely above a whisper, a little breathy and breaking. “I didn’t know it back then but, I did.” 

Lexa doesn’t say anything, she simply stares at you, and the look in her eyes seems familiar but then again everything about her is familiar and soon you’re lost in the green and Lexa has to tug on your hand to snap you out of it.

You laugh out. “See?” She nods, her lips now twitching in a barely-there smile. “I love you, Lexa. I’ve loved you since I was ten years old.” 

When the words leave your mouth, you let go of her hand and move to step back, slowly raising your hands to your shirt as you unbutton the first two buttons, much to Lexa’s shock clearly evident in her eyes, and when they widen even further as the ink on your chest is revealed, maybe, just maybe, you wish you’d decided on living a little sooner.

You don’t regret anything you’ve been through, but if this is what living feels like, exhilarating, exciting, thunderous and so fulfilling then yes - you wish you’d started living a little sooner. 

“I’ve had this for a couple of years now. I kind of wished I had it back then when I was ten but I guess it just wasn’t meant to be? Not yet at least.” You smile a little sadly and Lexa reaches out then, finger softly brushing over your ink, barely even touching your skin as she traces her own name on it. 

“It wasn’t a good time then, when it happened, you-”

“I know.” Lexa finally murmurs and your words die out on your tongue. “I know, Clarke.” She says again, her hand slipping away as she reaches down to the hem of her worn sweater and pulls it up and over her head, revealing the form-fitting tank top underneath it. But it’s not her clothes that catch your eye, or her beautiful, almost sculpted body. 

It’s the ink on the left side of her chest, the word  _ Clarke _ written in pretty, curvy letters that catches you off guard and makes a sob escape past your lips when you realize what this means.

“S-Since when?” You ask her, your voice muffled as you hold a hand over your mouth. “How long?” 

Lexa sighs. “A few months ago.” She looks at you sadly, eyes watering as she speaks. “I didn’t think it was possible, you know? Nobody ever tells you that you get a second chance at happiness.”

She hangs her head low and you’re quick to reach out, cupping her cheeks softly in your hands as you make her look at you.

“Hey, I get it, you know?” You smile at her sadly through tears now slowly sliding down your cheeks. “For months, I did nothing but blame myself for Costia’s death. Sometimes I still think I was responsible for that.” 

“You cannot possibly be.” Lexa hurries to reassure you and it tugs on your heart, the care and warmth in her words. “It was never on us, Clarke.” 

You chuckle through a sob and it comes out a little choked. “Y-Yeah.” You step a little closer, thumbs rubbing away her tears. “The universe really is weird, isn’t it?” 

Lexa chuckles too, her eyes a little blurry from her tears and her voice cracked when she speaks. 

“You know, I was in love with you back then too.” She smirks when your eyes widen despite your seemingly never-ending tears. “I was, really.” She tilts her head slightly, her nose brushing your own. “I was only a kid but my momma told me how she felt when she met my dad and it was all I could feel from the moment you sat down next to me under that old oak tree and held me tight in your arms while I cried.” 

A sob escapes you at those words again because god, life really has been tough on the two of you, hasn’t it? 

“It just wasn’t our time yet.” Lexa adds, her voice almost a whisper. 

“It wasn’t, no.” You say, your hands slipping around her neck as you pull her closer and brush your lips just barely over her own. “But I think now is as good a time as any?” 

Lexa chuckles and her breath tickles over your lips. 

“I have so much to tell you.” She murmurs, barely holding back from kissing you.

“Later, silly.” You whisper, nudging her nose as you press your lips just a little firmer against her own. “We have at least a decade worth of kisses to make up for right now.” 

And you pull away just enough to smirk at her before you lean in close again and take her lips in a soft kis, so long overdue, one that sends waves and waves of tingles through your body and sets every nerve ending on fire, a kiss that makes you believe it was all definitely worth it and life it certainly not just about surviving. 

And when she kisses you back, arms slipping around your waist to draw your nearer, the ink on your chest tingles with little embers that she’s lighting up in your very being, and each of those embers feels like a stitch that finds its way to your broken heart and pulls the pieces back together to mend them back into place. 

When you finally step back and she rests her forehead against yours, you realize you’re thirty three years old and you’re finally, completely, whole again. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Got an idea one night at work, decided I should write it down. Got to it next day, crammed out 9 thousand words in a couple of hours and voila! All-out angst fest with a happy ending. 
> 
> disclaimer: not everyone has a soulmate in this universe. not everyone gets a tattoo. some people get second chances and if they lose a soulmate, they get another one. some don't. there's no rule to it.


End file.
